


Only For the Worthy

by Scrawlers



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! Duel Monsters (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-17
Updated: 2018-12-17
Packaged: 2019-09-20 18:26:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17027757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scrawlers/pseuds/Scrawlers
Summary: While on a weekend vacation in Shibuya, Jounouchi and Yuugi decide to have dinner at one of the most popular arcade-themed restaurants. Unfortunately, their waiter for the evening ends up being one of Yuugi's bullies from college, and so the night doesn't quite go as planned.





	Only For the Worthy

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this a few years ago, but in light of Tumblr being . . . Tumblr, I've decided to archive everything here.
> 
> This is an established relationship fic, meaning that Jounouchi and Yuugi are 23/24 here (specifically, due to birthdays, Jounouchi is 23 while Yuugi is 24), and they’ve been romantically involved for about seven months at this point (at least according to my current timeline of their relationship). Other than that, the only final notes I have are that the restaurant and game featured within were inventions of mine. As far as I know, no restaurant of the sort exists anywhere in Japan (though I did try finding one), though who knows; maybe it will someday.

Top Score was one of the newest (and also one of the coolest) restaurants in Shibuya. Or maybe it wasn’t one of the  _newest_ restaurants, given that it had opened the previous summer, but since its opening it was the only one anyone bothered to talk about. Top Score had a reservation list thirty miles long that, to anyone calling hoping to get a spot, felt like it spanned several decades; but anyone who desired a spot on that list would tell you with one hundred percent conviction that it was worth it, even if they had never been within a fifty mile radius of its doors.

There were many gaming-themed restaurants in Japan, plenty of which resided in Domino City (fitting, many thought, given its name). But Top Score was special in that it didn’t just offer games to play: It offered games for  _the best_ to play. The gimmick of the restaurant was simple: It was free to get in and select a table, but once there each customer had to pay to play a game of their choosing. Should they manage to make it onto the scoreboard, they would earn a food item. Appetizers were awarded to those who scored within the top ten; entrées were awarded to those who scored within the top five; entrées with side dishes were awarded to those who scored within the top three; and those who managed to get the  _top_ score not only had their pick of the best dishes served at the restaurant, but were awarded dessert to go along with it. The scores on the boards were supposedly obscenely difficult to beat the higher up you got, and from what was said there were many people who never managed to make it onto the board at all—who left without tasting so much as a single appetizer. Many thought it was a rip-off, but those with a thirst to test their mettle and a love for gaming felt a burning need to get in and win. It wasn’t about the  _food_ , but about the  _glory_.

So naturally, when Jounouchi and Yuugi took a mostly impromptu weekend vacation to Shibuya, they did so with the intent on getting into Top Score, something that the not-so-impromptu part of their trip (namely, the part that Jounouchi had planned so as to scout out potential Christmas Eve and/or anniversary plans later in the year) came in handy for. Through much negotiating and a stroke of brilliant luck, he managed to nab a couple reservations, something that had left Yuugi more than a little astounded.

“I still can’t believe you did it,” Yuugi said, even as they moved through the crowd swarming the lobby and started making their way across the restaurant floor. The restaurant was styled much like an arcade; there were tables positioned haphazardly around the floor for people to sit down and eat at, but gaming stations containing everything from pinball machines, to video game kiosks, to skeeball, were positioned just as methodically around the room. Jounouchi grinned broadly as Yuugi turned this way and that to take in the sights, the smile on his face brighter than any of the arcade cabinets. “How did you say you—?”

“I have my ways,” Jounouchi said breezily, and he slipped his hands into the pockets of his jeans as Yuugi turned to give him a questioning look. Of course, Jounouchi’s ways were fairly simple, and involved promising to give the restaurant a more than glowing review on his radio show back in Domino, but Jounouchi figured that wouldn’t sound nearly as impressive as the mystery did, and so he kept his methods to himself. “So, which one do you wanna hit up first?”

“Hmm, let’s see . . .” Yuugi spun a little on the spot, his eyes roving over each of the available gaming stations (all of which, Jounouchi was sure, would be child’s play to Yuugi), before his eyes finally landed on a station that looked caught between a pinball machine and foosball table. “That one. It looks fun!”

“Looks weird to me, but I’m down,” Jounouchi said, and Yuugi shot him a grin before he all but bolted across the floor, Jounouchi right on his heels. The machine was tucked into a back corner, near a secluded square table, and Jounouchi saw that his earlier impression was correct: It was indeed something of a pinball-foosball hybrid.

“Hmm . . . oh, I get it!” Yuugi said. He twisted two of the knobs, one on each side, and then reached forward and pressed another one in. Given that the game hadn’t yet started, nothing happened save for a couple paddles spinning and a block sliding across a board encased beneath a sheet of thick glass. “See, it’s pinball, but you control more than just the flippers—you control the board itself! The objective is probably to get the ball in that top space there,” he pointed to a gaping mouth set inside a painting of a lion’s maw near the top of the board, “and you can manipulate the entire board to do it. So instead of just bouncing the ball off various obstacles and hoping for the best, you can actually utilize the obstacles to best suit your strategy at getting the ball in the hole—within certain parameters, of course.”

“Seems easy,” Jounouchi said. “Way easier than pinball, anyway. This should be a piece of cake.”

“Well, it seems that way, but I think that deception is part of the game,” Yuugi said. “Look, there are about ten knobs on each side, right? That’s a lot of board to keep track of at once. Say you move this block here,” he slid in a block near the top of the board, “and that knocks the ball back down to the bottom, toward the losing goal. You’d use all of these knobs here at the bottom to change the board to get it back up there, right?”

“Right.”

“But you forgot about this block that you moved up here at the top. You dive to change it, but you’re too late and the ball gets knocked back down. If this is anything like pinball, the ball is probably going pretty fast, and so before you know it your own board configuration has messed you up and you have to start all over. With pinball, so long as you have fast reflexes with the flippers you’re fine; with this, you really have to be able to think and move on the fly, or you’ll never make it.”

“Okay, maybe not so easy, then,” Jounouchi said, but Yuugi was still grinning, and his smile was infectious; Jounouchi couldn’t help but return it. “Wanna give it a shot anyway?” 

“You bet,” Yuugi said, but even as he did, someone spoke up from behind Jounouchi.

“I wouldn’t, if I were you.” 

Jounouchi turned to see a guy around their age standing behind him, dressed in a t-shirt bearing the restaurant’s logo and a waiter apron slung around his waist. Unlike most of the waitstaff, the waiter currently watching them seemed almost bored, if not for the condescending tilt of his chin as he watched them.

“Why not?” Jounouchi asked, and he did his best to keep his tone civil. However much unsolicited advice they were being given, he knew full well what it felt like to work for minimum wage; he wouldn’t be a jerk to employees himself if he could help it.

“No one ever wins at that one,” the waiter said. “The scoreboard’s been the same since we opened. No matter how much you play, at the end of the night you’ll go home with both an empty wallet  _and_ an empty stomach. Trust me, you’ll just be throwing your money . . . away . . .”

The waiter’s eyes had fallen on Yuugi, who hadn’t budged from the front of the machine, and Jounouchi smirked a little. Despite going into game development and being adamant that he wanted to be known for the games he  _made_ rather than the ones he played, Yuugi’s reputation still preceded him at any gaming-related event. Jounouchi was sure that, any second now, they were about to be treated to a rundown of Yuugi’s greatest wins, complete with an autograph request.

“Thanks for the advice,” Yuugi said with a little smile, “but I think we’ll give it a shot anyway. It can’t hurt to try it at least once.”

The waiter’s lips curled into a sardonic smirk. “Of course, and I wouldn’t have suggested otherwise if I had seen you there,  _Your Highness_.”

Even if Jounouchi hadn’t been expecting a completely different reaction, the sudden shift in tone and demeanor would have caught him off-guard anyway. Yuugi sighed and looked back at the game as Jounouchi stood up a little straighter. “Say what?”

“Nothing,” the waiter said, but for as mild and innocent as his tone suddenly was, there was no mistaking the malicious glint in his eye. “Only that _His Majesty_ can play any game he likes, of course. No one would ever want to deny the  _king_ his rightful due.”

There was something in his tone and word choice that struck a familiar chord within Jounouchi, and he narrowed his eyes. The waiter either didn’t notice, or didn’t care.

“I have to go attend to my other customers now, but I’ll be back in a bit to check on you. Or else, if you manage a top score before then, my buzzer will alert me and I’ll return to take your order.” The waiter patted the pocket of his apron to indicate the buzzer inside before he swept into a flourishing bow, his eyes trained on Yuugi. “Until then,  _my liege_.”

Yuugi didn’t so much as look at the water, his eyes steadily fixed on the arcade cabinet instead, but Jounouchi watched the waiter stride back across the floor, still trying to figure out where he knew him from, before he looked back to Yuugi.

“What the hell was that all about?”

“Nothing,” Yuugi muttered, and he twisted a few of the cabinet’s knobs again. “Just ignore him.”

Something clicked, then, though Jounouchi didn’t know why. It was hardly the first time Yuugi had told him to ignore a fight. He glanced back at the restaurant floor, even though their waiter was long since lost in the crowd, before he looked back to Yuugi.

“Didn’t you go to school with that asshole? In college, I mean.”

“Yes,” Yuugi said with another sigh, and the memories snapped into place for Jounouchi. Jounouchi hadn’t visited Yuugi’s campus regularly, but he had been there a handful of times when their waiter and his fellow game development lackeys had seen fit to mock and taunt Yuugi in any way possible. “That’s Koyamada-kun. He was in my year.”

“He was one of the little bastards that was jealous over you being the King of Games, wasn’t he?”

“I wouldn’t say jealous. More like insecure. But yes, he was, though he wasn’t the only one. Pretty much no one else in the game development major liked . . . it, either.”

“It” wasn’t what Yuugi had been about to say, because however much his fellow game design majors were just bitter over Yuugi holding the title of King of Games, Jounouchi knew that, on some level, Yuugi took the bullying and taunting personally. It was never enough to crush him, or keep him down for long, especially since he made friends outside of his major that he could hang out with on campus (and outside of it, sometimes—Jounouchi himself was fond of Yuugi’s college friends, for the most part, even if Kisugi’s flailing dramatics could be a bit much at times). But Yuugi was still the type of person who lamented lost friendships, even if the people he was lamenting really weren’t worth it.

And now that he was remembering the four or so years of bullying Yuugi had endured at Koyamada’s hands, Jounouchi was not only remembering how very  _not worth it_ Koyamada was, but also all the times he had held back on decking the asshole in his smarmy mouth both at Yuugi’s request  _and_ out of a desire to not get Yuugi expelled from his university.

“Hmph.” Jounouchi leaned back against the game case again, scowling out at the restaurant floor. “He’s just pissy because you guys graduated with the same degree, and yet you’re actually making games while he’s stuck working at a restaurant.”

“That’s not fair. We only graduated four months ago. I was really lucky to get the job offers I did,” Yuugi said, and Jounouchi snorted.

“Lucky? More like skilled. They were practically beating down our door to offer you a job.”

“Still. Most people can’t get jobs right out of college, and you know that. You’re only saying what you are because you’re angry with him for being a jerk.”

“Doesn’t change the fact that he’s gonna be pissy for the rest of his life when you’re a super famous game dev and he’s stuck bussing tables,” Jounouchi said, and Yuugi rolled his eyes.

“You don’t know that,” he said, and Jounouchi shrugged. “But anyway, I really don’t think that matters. He hated me long before we graduated. Before we even talked, really, because I . . .” He made a face at the arcade cabinet before he tossed up his hands and let them fall back down on the knobs sticking out of the sides. “Whatever, it’s just a stupid title, I don’t care about it. It doesn’t matter. If he wants to act petty over it, let him. Let all of them. There’s really no point in letting it bother me, especially when they’re upset over something so trivial.”

“True,” Jounouchi said. “Besides, dealing with Kaiba being pissy over it all the time probably gave you more than enough experience when it comes to dealing with this sort of thing, right? Between all of his pre- and post-duel tantrums, you practically had the wahmbulance on speed dial.”

Despite the gloomy mood their waiter had bestowed upon him, Yuugi sputtered a laugh before he could help himself, and Jounouchi grinned in the face of Yuugi’s newfound smile.  _That_ was what he wanted to see. “Yeah,” Yuugi said, “but don’t let him hear you say that, or not only will he challenge me again, but we’ll probably have to sit through at least one other tirade. Maybe two.”

Jounouchi rolled his eyes, but it was more for exaggerated effect than anything else. “Trust me, that’s not gonna be a problem,” he said. “You might’ve had enough of Kaiba’s tantrums for a lifetime, but I’ve had enough of Kaiba  _period_ for a lifetime. If I never see him again, except maybe to kick his ass in a Duel Monsters tournament, it’ll be too soon.”

“Yeah,” Yuugi said, but his tone was distracted because the pinball-foosball combo case had stolen his attention again. He spun one of the knobs before he looked back over at Jounouchi, his smile back in full force, the light of excitement over a new game fresh in his eyes again. “So, you ready to give this a shot, or what?”

“You bet.” Jounouchi pulled his wallet from the back pocket of his jeans and slipped a few yen out to hand over to Yuugi. “Load ‘it up, let’s get started.”

Whether Koyamada thought it was worthy of mockery or not, Yuugi’s title was well earned. While the first two attempts were something of clumsy disasters (for even though their teamwork was excellent after so many years of playing games together, the game was chaotic and not made much easier by having Yuugi man one side of the board while Jounouchi handled the other), by the third go-around Yuugi had a hang of the game, and by the fourth he had it down to a science. Whereas Jounouchi saw the game as being just as wild by the fourth turn as he had on the first, Yuugi seemed to view it as something of a puzzle, and that led to him not only handling his side of the board with ease, but also giving Jounouchi quick bursts of advice and directives as the game progressed.

“Slide that piece in,” he said, “and turn— _yes_!” 

The ball ricocheted off one of the metal flippers Jounouchi shoved in its path, and with a final whack from Yuugi sailed through the lion’s open maw. A short, yet piercing, victory siren sounded out from the machine as the lights on top flashed, and both Yuugi and Jounouchi watched the scoreboard eagerly as their score rose up through the fifth . . . the fourth . . . the third . . . !

“Hell yeah, first place!” Jounouchi cheered, and he and Yuugi turned in sync for a double-high five, beaming at each other. Yuugi opened his mouth to say something, but before he could the snide voice of their waiter cut him off.

“Well well, what a surprise. The unbeatable game cabinet bent to your will after all. I guess that’s no more than we should expect from our great lord.”

Yuugi’s smile faded into a neutral expression, but Jounouchi glared as he turned around to face Koyamada, who had a small notepad and a pen in hand as he watched them.

“So what will you have to dine on this evening, Your Highness? I’m sure you saw the menu board by the door when you walked in, but I can understand if you’re used to not having to adhere to things the rest of the peasantry have to put up with.”

“The  _donburi’s_ fi—” Yuugi started to say, but Jounouchi spoke over him to demand, “What the hell is your problem?”

“Katsuya, don’t, it really isn’t worth it,” Yuugi said quietly, as Koyamada raised his eyebrows.

“My problem? What do you mean? I’m just doing my job.” He twirled his pen and smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes and looked more like a leer. “I’m extending the common courtesy of asking His Majesty what he would like as his victory banquet, that’s all.”

“No, that’s not all,” Jounouchi snapped. “Because if you were doing your job you wouldn’t be acting like a jumped-up little prick to one of your customers.”

“Katsuya!” Yuugi said, a little more loudly and definitely reproachfully, but Jounouchi ignored him.

“What’s with all this ‘your highness’ and ‘his majesty’ garbage, huh? Why are you such an asshole?”

“It’s what he is, isn’t it?” Koyamada asked, a wicked glint in his eyes as he looked back at back at Yuugi. “The most prestigious King of Games, come to grace the rest of us plebeians with his royal presence—”

“Knock it off,” Jounouchi growled. “Yuugi’s not like that and he never has been, and maybe if you had gotten your head out of your ass long enough to actually talk to him, you’d know that.”

Short of looking cowed or even reprimanded, Koyamada gave Jounouchi a disdainful look. “And what are you then, his knight?” he sneered.

It felt a little weird to be addressed as such, and the mockery and insult aside it didn’t feel exactly right, but it wasn’t a point worth arguing. “Something like that,” Jounouchi said instead. 

Koyamada snorted. “I figured as much. Trust His Majesty to need an entourage, or at least a dogged knight to stand at his beck and call and joust his enemies for him.”

“He’s not at my beck and—it’s not like that at all!” Yuugi said hotly, and Koyamada rolled his eyes. 

“Whatever you say, Highness. Now, do you think you’re ready to order? I’m sure our kitchens can’t quite meet your elite tastes, but as much as the rest of the world might take a knee before your will, we do have a set closing time and the kitchen staff needs enough time to cook. I’m sure you understand.”

It had been a while since Jounouchi’s temper had reached a boiling point, but he could feel his blood pounding in his ears now as he took a step forward, his fingers balled into tight fists. “Last chance,” he said quietly. “Knock it off and shut your mouth before I shut it for you.”

“Katsuya, stop, he really isn’t worth it,” Yuugi said hastily. “You really don’t have to—”

“Well we should just go ahead and add another item to the ‘Lack of Surprise’ tab then, shouldn’t we?” Koyamada asked, and he spun his pen between his fingers once more before he grabbed it in a tight grip. “Because it is completely unsurprising that His Majesty would need his loyal guard to fight his battles for him, given that he was always too much of a coward to fight back hims—”

Jounouchi’s knuckles cracked against Koyamada’s mouth, and the blow was strong enough to send Koyamada flying backwards. He hit the ground with enough force to drag a sound that was halfway between a gasp and a squeak from his mouth, and both his pen and order notebook flew from his hands due to his grip breaking from the shock of the impact. Several nearby restaurant patrons shrieked, and several more gathered closer to watch the brewing fight. Jounouchi stretched his shoulders and flexed his fingers, and couldn’t help a satisfied smile.

“That,” he told Yuugi, looking back to meet his eyes, “has been a long time coming. Four years coming, in fact. Felt good.”

“You didn’t need to do that,” Yuugi said, and Jounouchi’s smile faded as he sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “He’s really not worth it—”

“You are,” Jounouchi said, and surprise flitted across Yuugi’s face, quickly followed by a red tint on his cheeks and across his nose. Jounouchi felt a thrill of amusement at the sight—getting blushes out of each other was something both of them enjoyed—but before he could say anything more on it Yuugi looked past him, and his eyes widened in alarm.

“Katsuya, watch—!”

Jounouchi turned just in time to see that, despite the fact that Jounouchi was sure he had to have at least dislocated his jaw, Koyamada still had some fight in him. He caught Koyamada’s thrown fist with one hand and pushed Yuugi out of the way with the other, moving back a few steps to better accept the weight of Koyamada’s momentum. Using that, Jounouchi spun on the ball of his foot to swing Koyamada around and throw him against the opposite wall, shifting his stance as he did so in order to have better footing for the ensuing fight.

“You’re gonna attack someone when his back is turned, and then you have the nerve to call someone else coward?” Jounouchi asked, and Koyamada glared at him over the blood pouring freely from his mouth. “What a joke. I’d laugh if you weren’t so sad.”

Koyamada tried to open his mouth to say something, but his jaw was already swelling badly, and he couldn’t quite manage more than a few garbled, sputtered insults. Jounouchi scoffed, and relaxed his stance to put his hands in his pockets instead. 

“Pathetic,” he said. “Tell you what, when you learn how to put on your big boy boxers and act like a man, maybe you can come find me for a rematch. I don’t expect it to last much longer than this, but considering you can’t even talk right now, I’d say this round is officially over.”

Koyamada pushed off the opposite wall and swiped an arm across his mouth, smearing blood down his chin. He stumbled a little as he made his way forward, and Jounouchi put one hand out to motion to Yuugi to stay out of the fight, but before either of them could do anything more an outraged and panicked voice cut through the room.

“ _Koyamada_! What is the meaning of—?!”

Koyamada gurgled something that sounded like, “He started it!” and pointed at Jounouchi, and Jounouchi shot him a filthy look before he turned to see who had spoken. The man was dressed in an old gray suit and had a receding hairline. He looked back and forth between Koyamada and Jounouchi as he approached, looking as bewildered and stressed as it was possible for one man to look.

“What is the meaning of this, sir?” the man—the man _ager_ , if Jounouchi had to guess—asked. “For you to attack one of my employees—”

“He was being an asshole to us first,” Jounouchi said, and he nodded his head toward Yuugi, who inclined his own when the manager looked at him. “He wouldn’t stop mocking Yuugi, decided to keep trying to provoke me even after I told him to back off, and so to be honest, he got what he was asking for.” Jounouchi directed another glare Koyamada’s way. “What he’s  _been_ asking for for years now, if we’re being honest.”

The manager rounded on Koyamada. “Is this true, Koyamada? Did you act rudely toward these customers?”

Koyamada opened his mouth as best he could to defend himself, but by this point his jaw was all but swollen shut. He cupped a hand over it, either to stymie the blood flow or hide the swelling, and all that escaped was a little whimper. 

That answer didn’t seem to be enough for his manager. The manager pulled a handkerchief out of his suit pocket and mopped at his brow before he said, “All right, Koyamada, you go home. I’ll let the owner know what happened tomorrow and he may or may not decide to terminate your employment with us.” Koyamada’s eyes widened, and he began sputtering again, but the manager waved him off. “No, you can’t act belligerently to our customers, that is not the way we do things here! And as for you, sirs,” he turned to Jounouchi and Yuugi as Koyamada stomped off, “I’m going to have to ask you to leave, and please don’t come back. We are a fun, family friendly establishment, and we don’t condone violence here—”

“But we—” Jounouchi said, but Yuugi put a hand on his arm.

“We understand,” he said. “Sorry to have caused a disturbance.”

“It’s . . . uhm . . . yes. Right. Well.” The manager cleared his throat and stowed the handkerchief back in his pocket. “Goodbye.”

“Come on, let’s go,” Yuugi said, and he gently tugged Jounouchi toward the door. Jounouchi still wanted to argue the point—he wouldn’t have decked the waiter if the waiter hadn’t provoked them first, wasn’t bad customer service supposed to be against restaurant policy, and they had  _won their game_ so couldn’t they at least get takeout?—but he let Yuugi lead him to the door anyway. Stares followed them on their way out, making the ordeal feel something like a walk of shame, but Jounouchi didn’t care what they thought. Now that his temper was cooling, and it sank in just how badly he had ruined their date, the only person whose opinion mattered to him at the moment was Yuugi’s.

The sun had set, but the July air was still warm and humid, and the Shibuya streets were as crowded as they were when Jounouchi and Yuugi had first entered the restaurant. Despite the oppressive crowds, Yuugi took a deep lungful of air when they stepped outside, and dropped his hand from Jounouchi’s arm as they started down the street, headed in the direction of the scramble crossing. 

At first they walked in silence save for the sounds of cars and pedestrian foot traffic around them, but after a minute or two, Jounouchi said, “Sorry I got us kicked out and possibly banned from the coolest restaurant in Japan, Yuugi.”

“Hm? Oh, it’s okay,” Yuugi said, and Jounouchi heaved a sigh as he ran a hand through his hair.

“No it’s not. If I had listened to you in the first—or second, or maybe even third—place, it wouldn’t have happened. But I just lost my temper, and . . .” He tossed one hand up and let it fall back by his side. “Now we’re banned and I ruined our date. I’m sorry.”

“Our date’s not ruined. There’s still plenty of time to get dinner somewhere else—somewhere where maybe a jerk I knew from college doesn’t work,” Yuugi said, and Jounouchi looked over to see that Yuugi was smiling at him. “He was getting under my skin, too, by the end of it. I just have a lot more experience in tolerating it than you do, that’s all.”

“Yeah, but—”

“And besides, you were just defending me.” As they reached the scramble crossing and stopped by the curb, Yuugi slipped his hand into Jounouchi’s. Jounouchi instinctively laced the fingers together. “That you love me enough to defend me like that is worth more to me than that entire restaurant and then some. So long as we’re together, a four hundred yen ramen stand might as well be a five star restaurant as far as I’m concerned.”

Jounouchi had no mirror to check, but the heat across the back of his neck and Yuugi’s sudden grin told him that his own face had probably turned as bright red as Yuugi’s had back at Top Score. He cleared his throat, finding his voice suddenly gruff, and swung their linked hands between them as they started across the scramble crossing with the rest of the crowd.

“Well, that settles that, then,” he said. “We’ll find somewhere else, and—yeah, it’ll be great. Just fine! Doesn’t matter so long as we’re together, right?”

“Right,” Yuugi said, and there was laughter in his voice. Jounouchi gently squeezed his hand, and looked back to answer Yuugi’s smile with one of his own, as they made it across the scramble and headed out to explore the rest of the Shibuya night life.


End file.
